


The Dark Angel

by nameless_sovereign



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ace Chemicals, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark Bruce Wayne, Episode: s05e07 Ace Chemicals, Jerome Valeska/Bruce Wayne - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Jerome Valeska, Not A Happy Ending, ace chemicals is a sad af episode, but not a sad ending, jeremiah valeska is a dumb gay, jeremiah valeska is very sad, jerome valeska is still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_sovereign/pseuds/nameless_sovereign
Summary: What if Jeremiah's hit had landed in Ace Chemicals?This is a story in which Jeremiah's hit landed, and the railing gives way allowing Bruce to fall.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Kudos: 64





	The Dark Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Jerome is mentioned rather than directly invovled, and the jerome/bruce relationship is hard to describe, but it's not very romantic
> 
> well, none of this story is super romantic...

So much was going through Jeremiah’s mind. Bruce was right here. Bruce was mad in a way that only someone you hate can make you. Bruce’s lips were curled into a snarl. Jeremiah knew this look. It was the look of someone you could’ve loved finally breaking you down to just hatred. If only Bruce could’ve loved him before turning to hatred. Could’ve faced his true nature and together they could build Gotham into a city worthy of the love Bruce has bestowed upon it. Could anything truly be worthy of Bruce’s love? Jeremiah knew, deep in his heart, that he wasn’t. He knew that no matter what he sacrificed for Bruce, no matter what he did, Bruce would always be an angel in a world of monsters. Bruce was a dark angel who could level a city with just a blinding beautiful smile. 

“Without me.”

Without Jeremiah, Bruce would never see his true power. He would be left trying to convince himself, along with the rest of the world, that he is an innocent orphan set on remaking the city of Gotham legally. Couldn’t he see that in order to make Gotham better it would first need a clean slate. In his mind flashed the times Bruce’s skin has touched his. The face of concern when he thought Jeremiah was going mad. Oh, how he wished that were true sometimes, just so he could have Bruce fretting over him, worried and sweet. 

“You’re just a joke.”

He was more than a joke. Bruce Wayne was everything, but with Jeremiah at his side, behind him, in front of him, he could be so much more. Right now he was so close to reaching his full potential. He just had to stop fighting it, let it be free. Let himself be free. He didn’t need to hold himself back anymore, this was the best time to grow, and learn his true power. No one cared about money, or charity events, Bruce could finally show the world that he was more than a Wayne. He was Bruce. Bruce could be the name that identified him, not the name passed on from his father. He could become his own man. The world, and him, could finally see the raw power that Jeremiah saw every time he laid his eyes on him. Even before his awakening, Jeremiah knew that Bruce was powerful, that he could protect him, and he wanted to protect Bruce as well. 

“Without a punchline.” Those words. Why did he choose them? Why couldn’t he have just left what he had hanging in the air, Bruce could assume that he was saying the mask that he had worn was a joke, and that Jeremiah could see through it. He could, it would’ve been true. 

Time was slow. Too slow. The words echoed in his head as- Falling. Falling. His hand stung from the impact, not that he could feel it over the adrenaline, or the numbness that followed as he felt Bruce reaching out towards him. Reaching. His hands stretched out in front of him, Jeremiah’s names in his lips. He was falling. Why? Without thinking Jeremiah followed. Bruce couldn’t be alone in this. He wouldn’t be alone, Jeremiah could never allow him to be. Bruce wouldn’t die alone, not with Jeremiah there to-

It burns. It was a fire. A neon green fire surrounding him. Surrounding Bruce. The screams drowned out by the roaring of the blood in his ears. He could feel his skin dissolving, but he could also feel Bruce in his arms. Both reaching for the other. Needing the other. 

The vat had a security in place, and immediately started draining, but it wasn’t enough. They had melted and fused together; it was the only explanation for the pain Jeremiah was feeling. All he could hear was Bruce’s strangled scream as acid filled his mouth. Jeremiah held Bruce as close as he could. This was his fault, why did he-

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

Everything was still burning, but his arms were no longer curled protectively around Bruce. His arms were empty. Did he fail? Is Bruce dead because of him? If he killed Bruce-

“Bruce Wayne is braindead.” The voice was far and Jeremiah could hardly make out the words. It sounded as if they were underwater, or if cotton had been stuffed in his ears.

“Is there any chance of improvement?” 

“We can’t tell at this point,” There was a sigh, maybe? It was hard to hear over the beeping that had started to increase. Bruce wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t safe either. Bruce wasn’t safe. Bruce wasn’t okay because of him. He hurt Bruce far more than intended. Control of the pain was necessary to make him realise his power, but this was too much too fast, “What should we do with Mr. Valeska?” The same voice had broken the painful news had moved closer. 

“I don’t know, when does the decision need to be made?” Jeremiah knew this voice. It was the man Bruce was so fond of… Why couldn’t he remember his name. He knows his name, it was something. 

“The GCPD plan to step in if the decision isn’t made by the end of the week.” The pain was starting to wash away. The voice was swimming away, and suddenly the world seemed to be spinning, or maybe someone had started moving the bed that Jeremiah was laying on. His stomach churned with the movements. She had done something to him. The voice was doing something to him, and he couldn’t fight back. He hated feeling this helpless. 

Did Bruce feel like this? Was Bruce in this state of confusion? He wanted Bruce. He wanted him back in his arms, where he knew he was safe. Where he knew he could protect him to the best of his abilities. He could never let something like this ever happen again. Never again.

A week later, Jeremiah Valeska was declared dead. Life support was unplugged, and he was placed in a grave next to his brother. The Valeska twins, who destroyed the city. Both intent to cause chaos to reign over Gotham City. Both forever trapped with the one who has caused their pain, looked over by their dark angel. An angel who knew the potential each had, an angel who had turned away from the light because the light had taken away what they needed. The light had taken away the one who they loved most. The one was the man the angel saw when he closed his eyes. The light had taken away the one who, for as long as it took for the angel to admit, had brought out their darkness in a house of mirrors. The light had taken away the two who showed him what he was capable of. Of doing. Of feeling. Of wanting.

This was an angel of darkness who avenged the one who they hated most and the one who they loved most. Both necessary to live. The angel, without his demons, felt cold and empty. 

Bruce Wayne felt cold and empty. He stood above the grave of the two brothers more alike than they imagined, and far different than the public knew. Bruce wore black amour, with blood splatter flowers. A blood red rose laid over the grave of his love and another place on the grave of his hate. Both needed to be who he is. Both necessary to continue on after the light left him alone. 

The angel had a place in his heart for his beloved. A place where even after death, his arms protected him from the burning pain of neon green. The dark angel vowed that he would continue his lover’s plan. He has vowed to continue his Jeremiah’s plan for their beloved city. The death of the scum of Gotham has soaked his hands. Civil blood makes civil hands unclean, but that is the dark angel. He had lost his innocence when the plug was removed from the wall. His lover was there with him after every kill, telling him how he was making everything better. How if he was there he would ravish his body in love, and show him how happy his work was making him. The angel hated keeping his work a secret, but Ecco had shared the blueprints for the dark angel’s new city. Their new city. Every design was made and perfected. The angel loved his city. The angel loved his Jeremiah. 

The one most hated had a special place in his mind. He was there over his shoulder as he relished the kill. Whisper in his ear that it was okay for the darkness to consume him so wholly. Jerome’s hoarse voice kept him steady when the weight of years of naivety threatened to push him into the ground. The angel needed him as much as his lover. While his lover protected him, his enemy kept him steady, and allowed him to get hurt to learn his lesson. He kissed his scars and made sure he knew that they were reminders of past mistakes that can not be made again. Despite the hatred the angel felt for him, he understood him better now. The dark angel was bloody now too, and he knew why chaos had been so intoxicating for him. The angel hated everything he had done, and knew that he hated him too. Hated him in a way that you could only hate someone you could’ve loved.


End file.
